Bric-a-Brac
by shmobeline
Summary: Daine and Numair go to visit his family in Tyra several years after the events of Realms of the Gods, and Numair's mother Erryn chats with Daine about the state of their relationship.


_Daine and Numair go to visit his family in Tyra several years after the events of Realms of the Gods, and Numair's mother Erryn is mildly concerned about the state of their relationship._

Bric-a-Brac

Daine sat at the kitchen table in the Drapers' small home, looking curiously through the contents of a wooden chest that was set before her. Numair's mother stood at the other end kneading bread dough, flour creeping up her arms and dusting her apron. She was a kindly looking woman, perhaps in her mid-fifties, and was a matronly sort of plump. Her eyes were dark and striking, and her black, greying hair was pulled into a loose knot at the back of her head.

"Those were my mother-in-law's," she said, referring to the pair of small, decorated embroidery scissors Daine was holding. "Pretty little things, but they're too old to be serviceable now. You're welcome to them, of course, but they won't be much use as anything but an ornament."

Daine chuckled. "I think our rooms in Corus are cluttered enough as it is, what with all of Numair's academic curios. Best not to add any more weight to those poor shelves." She set the scissors aside with the rest of the items she'd pulled out of the chest and smiled up at the older woman. Mistress Draper was concentrating on the movements of her hands, her mouth curved into a tight frown. Daine decided she had better swiftly move the conversation on to safer ground than the subject of her unconventional – and to Mistress Draper's mind, immoral – relationship with Numair.

"Was your mother-in-law very fond of needlework?" Daine asked, and breathed an inward sigh of relief when Numair's mother smiled back at her.

"One of her favourite things to do, as I recall. She had quite a hand for it, too. Most of the embroideries in that chest are hers."

Daine nodded and looked down to continue browsing through the contents of the chest. She uncovered a box of pretty buttons and set it to the side. There was a ring of large old keys and a beautiful Yamani fan and an abundance of ribbons – some plain, some painstakingly decorated with bright thread. Then she pulled out a folded bolt of deep blue brocade. She'd scarcely seen more beautiful material, excepting Queen Thayet's gowns, of course. She ran her fingers over the silky fabric, watching as it shifted between dark blue and silvery grey.

"This is very beautiful," she said, holding the fabric up for Mistress Draper's inspection when the older woman looked over. She was wiping her floury hands on a damp cloth, having just set the dough in a bowl to rise in the corner. She crossed the room and took the proffered material, unfolding it to its full size.

"I'd forgotten I had this. Not very big, I'm afraid. Still, it might do for some sleeve and hem edging, or a bodice inset." She paused while she refolded the fabric. "Can you sew, Daine?" she asked pleasantly.

"Only a little. I haven't had much cause to practice since I was young. I've always found it a bit tedious, to be honest."

Numair's mother smiled. "My youngest was the same. I never could get her to sit down to her needlework for more than ten minutes together. She's married to a smith now. Tried to get as far away from the dressmaking business as she could, I think," she said, with fond laughter. "But it's no matter for you. Corus must be full of seamstresses who can use this to make a dress up for you."

Daine's eyes widened slightly. "You can't mean you want me to take this! It must be worth a fortune!"

"Nonsense," Mistress Draper replied. "What value has a piece of fabric that spends all its time in a musty old chest?" The older woman held the cloth up to Daine's cheek and nodded, seemingly pleased by what she saw. "It suits you very nicely. You should keep it. But you mustn't use it for just any old thing, mind. It could make a beautiful gown... A wedding dress, perhaps," she said, observing Daine from the corner of her eye as she folded the fabric.

Daine grimaced. "Perhaps." Numair must have gotten his subtlety from his mother, she thought wryly. She picked up the ring of old keys and inspected them one by one, examining them far more closely than she really needed to.

There was silence for several moments as Mistress Draper watched Daine fiddle, and Daine resolutely kept her gaze away from Mistress Draper.

"Arram tells me he means to marry you one day," Mistress Draper said finally, her tone falsely light and conversational. "Will you pass me the button box, Daine?"

The wildmage slid the small box across the table, and went back to her keys. "It's a possibility," she allowed.

The older woman chuckled. "He'll be disappointed to hear that it's only a 'possibility', dear."

"He knows," Daine said to her lap. She glanced up at Numair's mother. Her expression suggested that Numair was not the only person disappointed in her answer. Daine sighed. "Mistress Draper,-"

"Erryn, please."

"Erryn, then," Daine said after a moment, with a small smile. "I know I'm not what you had hoped for Numair; I'm young, and I didn't know my father for the first sixteen years of my life, and I've no money, but..." She felt her cheeks begin to burn as she thought of her next words to say. "But I love him, and that's not going to change. I'm just not ready for marriage yet. I hope you can forgive me that."

There were a few seconds of quiet, broken when two small boys ran noisily past the window chasing a rather disgruntled cat. Both women smiled.

"Daine," Erryn began, sitting forward and resting her elbows and clasped hands on the table. "_'Numair'_ isn't what I'd hoped for Arram. That isn't to say I'm not proud of him; I am. He's a good man. But the things he has been through to get here, I would not wish them on anyone, let alone my own child. I never thought one of my children might have to hide his own identity as Arram does. I don't know much of what went on in Carthak, but I know enough to almost wish his father and I had not let him go. I say 'almost' because if he had not gone he might never have met you, and you are exceedingly good for him, Daine.

"You don't need to apologise for being hesitant about marriage. It is a serious commitment, and truthfully I'm pleased to see you regard it as such. It speaks well of your maturity. But marriage is nothing to be frightened of. It's hard work, to be sure, but the rewards to be reaped are beyond value. You already live as if you were wed. Is it such a leap to make the vows before gods and men?"

Daine thought for a moment, trying to find the right words to explain herself. "I'm not _frightened_ of marriage, Mis-" Daine paused and corrected herself with a small smile and glance at the older woman, "_Erryn_. I just... haven't had enough experience of the world. I'm not wise enough to be married."

"And you believe Arram is? The workings of relationships is not something that can be learnt from a book, my dear. I assure you, you will both be on a steep learning-curve no matter when you marry."

Erryn chuckled, and sighed at Daine's lacklustre expression. She patted the young mage's hand.

"I'm not your mother, Daine, and I wouldn't presume to counsel you and expect you to heed every word, but I have faith you'll make the decision that's best for you, when the time is right. Just remember that you are not in this alone. Arram is treading along with you, and - though this might just be a mother's fondness - you could not ask for a better travelling companion. Make sure you treat him well, Daine."

Erryn gave Daine's hand a little squeeze and smiled kindly.

"Now! Come over here and help me choose some buttons for this fabric..."


End file.
